There was a bag made from can ring-pulls, a pirate ship in full sail built from all the flotsam and jetsam found on any prison wing
The annual Koestler Arts exhibition is a great leveller, it is where prison inmates and art connoisseurs come together on common ground where nobody is judging anyone else, writes Michael Holland.
In fact, any judging has already been done, once in Koestler HQ by art experts choosing the works that get displayed, and earlier by the law courts that sent people to jail where they were able to find the creativity within themselves.
This year’s common ground is once again The Southbank Centre where, with a keen eye, you can identify the inmates there; those who are acting as tour guides and stewards, and some who are the artists on day release. They have a quiet beauty about them, a look that comes from having experience of both sides of life. They exude a confidence that shows they are not phased by art enthusiasts, a confidence that comes from their art being on the walls being looked at and admired.
Every year Koestler choose a curator who will bring something special to the exhibition, someone who will have walked a path that wasn’t merely creative but had diverted down roads most people do not have to walk.
Inua Ellams is a poet, playwright and performer who came to this country as a child and spent many years in a limbo of never knowing if he would get full citizenship. It was granted recently, so Inua lived as a refugee and knows what it is like to live with no safety net, when each day the rug could be pulled from beneath your feet.
And that was what he brought with him when he curated this show and saw the many depictions of owls in the thousands of works put forward; he thought about how prisoners might do their most creative work at night, like owls, so he called the exhibition Night Owls and Abstractions. Many of the artworks show a longing for freedom, for the power of flight, for an escape from the walls and the bars.
He opened the gallery space up to fellow poets who wrote verse to hang alongside the art. Luigi Coppola was in attendance, a teacher and poet from SE London who told me, ‘Inua asked me, along with other poets from the New Poets Collective, to contribute, so I wrote haiku inspired by the artworks on display by the artists in criminal justice settings.’
This combining of inmates and professionals coming together through art adds another level to what Koestler has always done. Each artist will not only know that their work is in an exhibition seen by thousands, but it has also energised other creatives to make more art to complement it. And that is a beautiful thing.
With money and materials lacking in jail it was good to see many 3D works made from found or recycled objects. One enterprising artist from HMP Wymott used cell furniture smashed up by angry prisoners to make beautiful trinket boxes. They deservedly got a Gold Award for Woodcraft. There was a bag made from can ring-pulls, a pirate ship in full sail built from all the flotsam and jetsam found on any prison wing.
There is always the poignant (Dear Dad) and the witty( Bingo Wings) and the harking back to a simpler time of board games with the family, but with a harsh reality check (Monopoly); plus the intricate matchstick and prison soap creations that have been a Koestler staple from back when the matches had to be picked up from the exercise yard and the soap from the prison stores.
There are poems to read and music to listen to, cushions to admire, handmade quilts and an embroidered sheet that pleaded for Freedom.
My favourite, though, was Welcome to A Wing, Wing, a simple composition, almost devoid of colour, a man in silhouette arriving on the landing, an empty, soulless place that offered no warm welcome. He holds a piece of paper, seemingly with the rules to abide by during his time there.
You can almost see and feel what is going on in his mind: the regret of being in jail and not with his family, the shame his loved ones will feel when the neighbours shun them, the sorrow of not being a father to his children and not seeing them grow up. This one resonated with me more than any other.
This is an art exhibition that every year earns the right to be seen. Inua hopes that visitors will be inspired by the exhibition to explore their own creativity. A QR code in the gallery will allow you to write and send Koestler your haikus.
Southbank Centre, Spirit Level, Level 1, Royal Festival Hall until December 14th.
Free Admission.
Check opening time details: https://koestlerarts.org.uk/exhibitions/annual-uk-exhibition-2025/
